


one tiny little thing

by fthh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, MILF Mercie AU, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fthh/pseuds/fthh
Summary: a collection of ficlets from an alternate universe where Ingrid is dating milf Mercierated t for swearing
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. a confession

**Author's Note:**

> mmmm milf mercie <3
> 
> i have been talking about milf mercie for so long writing about her is way overdue
> 
> [x](https://twitter.com/merciehonkers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ingrid has some questions about Mercedes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 15/12/2020
> 
> word count: 818

The relationship’s perfect. It’s  _ perfect, _ or so Ingrid tells herself. There’s nothing wrong, so it  _ must _ be perfect. There’s an absence of imperfection.

She isn’t even  _ sure _ it’s a relationship, anyway. They’re seeing each other, but they haven’t had the talk yet. It’s been two months…

It’s been  _ two months. _ Ingrid wonders  _ why _ they haven’t had the talk yet. She really likes Mercedes, and she knows Mercedes really likes her, so what’s stopping them? Ingrid’s mind races in a million different directions, and she settles on one destination:

Is she a kept woman?

.

“Surely  _ not _ ,” Dorothea gasps. “What kind of person has a  _ kept woman _ these days?”

“I don’t know man,” Ingrid grumbles, letting out a sigh laced with exasperation. “What else could it be? That she’s in the mafia? Sweet Mercie? I don’t think so.”

“I  _ guess, _ ” Dorothea relents after a few moments, “but like… you? Who would want  _ you _ as a kept woman?”

“Hey!”

A throw pillow lands squarely on Dorothea’s face, and they laugh it off.

(But the issue doesn’t leave Ingrid’s mind even for a second.)

.

Ends of dates always go like this: Ingrid says she had a good time. Mercedes says so, too. Ingrid will ask:  _ your place or mine? _ Mercedes will laugh, and with a sheepish smile, answer  _ your place, mine’s a mess. _

(Once or twice, sure, Ingrid understands, but every single time? How messy  _ is _ Mercedes’ place?)

“What, is she a hoarder?” Dorothea asks, putting her tea back down on the table.

“I mean, I don’t think so?”

“Does it matter if she is, though?”

“Um. I don’t know. Depends on how bad the problem is, I guess.”

Dorothea takes another sip of tea, not knowing what else to say. There’s really nothing to say: Ingrid knows she’d still like Mercedes a lot, and she knows that Dorothea knows this, and so they drop the topic. There are other things to discuss.

(Like Dorothea’s weekend getaway with a new girl.)

.

“I heard a guy’s voice on the phone the other day.”

“Just talk to her, dude.”

.

Ingrid doesn’t know why she’s so nervous: she’s been on the phone with Mercedes late into the night countless times before, and this is no different. She fidgets with the ring on her finger, taking it off, playing with it in the palm of her hand, and slides it back onto her ring finger.

“— this weekend would be nice, I think,” comes Mercedes’ voice from the other end of the line.

“Huh?”

“Hey, are you spacing out, sweetheart? It’s getting late, I guess we should sleep,” Mercedes remarks with a small laugh.

“Yeah—”

There’s a sound of a door slamming open. There’s a high-pitched squeak. There’s a high-pitched whine. There’s a high-pitched voice: “Mommy, Emile won’t let me play games with him!”

Mercedes whispers a sharp and hurried, “I have to go, sorry Ingrid,” into the phone and just like that the call ends.

Ingrid doesn’t know what bothers her the most: the lack of pet name or the childish cadence of the high-pitched voice, or that name…  _ Emile. _

She gets so lost in thought she doesn’t hear her phone vibrating on her night stand an hour later. She goes to sleep with a frazzled mind and a frazzled heart.

.

“I owe you an explanation,” Mercedes sits next to Ingrid and hands her a cup of coffee. No milk, two sugars. Steaming hot, so she has time to sit back and just  _ think. _

Ingrid has a small smile on her face. “You remembered,” she whispers, sounding a little in awe.

“Of course I do,” Mercedes replies. Ingrid can’t see her face but she can hear the smile in Mercedes’ voice.

“I like you so much,” Ingrid admits. “I like you a lot, and being a hoarder in the mafia won’t change that.”

“I’m—  _ my Ingrid. _ The mafia?”

“I don’t know, Mercie, what else could it be?”

When Mercedes laughs, it’s the best sound she’s ever heard in her life. Ingrid wills herself to look up, and oh, Mercedes is the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen. The weather’s getting cold, cold enough for Mercedes to need an oversized jumper, and she warms her hands on the sides of her cup of tea.

(She wonders what Mercedes would look like in  _ her _ green jumper.)

“See that girl right there?” Mercedes asks, pointing a finger at a nearby child, blonde hair past her shoulders, with bangs, playing with a much older and taller boy who has his long hair tied up in a ponytail. “That’s my baby.”

“Your—”

“Yes.”

“— Baby?”

Ingrid almost faints.

Mercedes is a mother? What does that make  _ her _ then? A step-mother? She’s much too young to have children. Her world collapses in on itself. She wonders what to say. She wonders what to do.

(She doesn’t figure it out, so she does the next best thing: excuse herself and run away.)


	2. after the revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ingrid goes to Dorothea for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated 15/12/2020
> 
> word count: 584

“I’m a step-mother now,” Ingrid says as soon as Dorothea cracks her door open.

“That’s it? No  _ hi Dorothea, I’m sorry, I know you have a guest over, this’ll just take a moment,  _ nothing? Just that?”

Ingrid pulls out a beer can from her best friend’s fridge before sitting down next to her in the living room. Across the hall, she can see a familiar figure under the covers in Dorothea’s bed.

“So you weren’t lying about having company? I thought you just didn’t want to see me.”

Dorothea takes the can from Ingrid’s hands and takes a sip. “Nonsense, Ingrid, if I didn’t want to see you I’ll just tell you. Now spill.”

.

_ Stupid _ is all that Dorothea says after Ingrid explains what just happened.  _ Fucking stupid _ is what comes out next.

“What the hell, Ingrid?”

“Yeah, I just. I came straight here.”

Dorothea sighs, exasperated. Ingrid knows that sound, something that’s been directed to her regularly ever since they became friends years ago.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t say goodbye to her.”

Ingrid answers her question with silence, but she at least has the tact to look sheepish, and starts fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

“Ingrid!”

Ingrid flinches at the admonishing tone. That one’s reserved for when she’s done something colossally stupid which, now that she thinks about it, yeah, maybe sprinting towards her car wasn’t the best response when the woman she’s dating confesses about having a child.

“I didn’t know what to do!” Ingrid says, grimacing. “I panicked.”

Ingrid’s eyes focus on the floor, and she looks much like a child getting reprimanded. Dorothea sighs, exasperated, exhausted, understanding. Ingrid isn’t the best when it comes to feelings. She knows this firsthand, after all.

“Hey,” Dorothea says, soft, one hand on Ingrid’s. It’s a comforting gesture that works every time. Ingrid loves being touched, but isn’t really big on hugs. “You still like her, don’t you? Is this gonna change anything?”

Ingrid pauses for a moment to think.

One moment turns into two and three and four and then it’s two minutes later when Dorothea pokes the side of her arm to make sure she’s still alive.

“You don’t have to answer now, I guess, but you  _ should _ tell her you’re thinking about it.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… I’m gonna be a step-mom dude.”

Ingrid says it with an expression of awe on her face so sincere it  _ can’t  _ be a joke. She leans back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Her heart races at the thought of talking it out with Mercedes. She isn’t ready to be a mother. She isn’t good with kids, but at the same time she likes Mercedes  _ so much. _

“Is this for real? Ingid, she just told you she has a kid, she isn’t proposing to you. Chill.”

After another few moments of silence she finally sighs in defeat and looks at her best friend with pleading eyes. “You’re right,” she relents.

“I always am. Now go talk to her, or go home and think. I don’t know. But just tell her  _ something. _ She deserves that at least. And  _ I _ deserve to go back to bed.”

Ingrid leans to the side to gesture towards Dorothea’s room. “I’m gonna go now but I demand to know more about this girl.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dorothea says in an evasive tone, shooing away her friend towards the door. “Close the door on your way out, and please do  _ not _ be a dumbass about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these 2


End file.
